


Sleep Deprivation

by orphan_account



Category: Hotline Miami (Video Games), Hotline Miami 2: Wrong Number
Genre: Hallucinations, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-18
Updated: 2015-07-18
Packaged: 2018-04-09 23:14:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4368032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Rouven = Beard, Richard = Jacket.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Sleep Deprivation

**Author's Note:**

> Rouven = Beard, Richard = Jacket.

He hates the way he feels when he hasn't slept in ages. There's a lightness in his chest, made him feel like if he was standing, he would float up into the sky and probably off the Earth entirely. 

So thankfully, he's sitting.

He's sitting with his chin in his hands, staring blearily off into space and occasionally yawning, his eyes watering every time his jaw is forced open and takes in a long, slow breath. It's not the greatest feeling in the world, but it can't be the worst. Richard isn't exactly nodding off, but his eyelids are definitely fluttering closed and staying staying shut for what seems like seconds, but minutes pass before they open again.

Eyes close, eyes open, eyes close again.

Rouven doesn't bother to nudge him, it's good to let the poor man sleep when he can. He simply hums to himself as he reads his book, relaxed, quiet, for once not plagued by the darkness in his mind. Richard is practically lulled to sleep by the soft, warm voice near him, gently singing a wordless tune.

His head nods forward, his shoulders jerk him back up. It's a push and pull he doesn't appreciate, but there wasn't much he could do about it. He yawns again, and adjusts his position so he leans on one hand instead of two, and starts to nod off again. Rouven thinks its endearing as he starts to slump forward again, his eyes half-lidded, his mind seemingly unaware of his body.

Richard's eyes close fully, and he can feel hands on the sides of his head, cradling his cheeks, and a pair of lips against his own. They're warm, chapped and dry, and hair can be felt on the upper portion of his mouth, rough and bristly. For a second, he sinks into the embrace before a thrill runs throughout his entirety, and his whole body jolts as if he's been shocked with electricity. He stares wide-eyed at his friend, breathing harder than usual, worried for the image in his mind. Rouven hadn't moved an inch, but at the sudden random jostling from the other man, he's looked up from his book, eyebrow raised and lips drawn down in a worried frown.

"You alright buddy?" The bearded man hums, reaching across the table and taking Richard's hand in his own. It's a comforting motion, usually, but now the man's cheeks burn and he returns the hold with a shaky embrace before tugging his hand away, grunting out his confirmation.

"Fine." Richard grumbles, feeling a shudder run through him. He normally has abnormal thoughts, ones that worry and concern him, but never ones about kissing his best friend.

Fuckin' sleep deprivation.


End file.
